Victory
by International08
Summary: Their first morning after. A one-shot in the Minnie-verse. Complete.


**Für Elise. ;)**

* * *

><p>"Mmm, you smell good."<p>

She looks in the mirror, takes in the way his hands span her waist, how his body envelopes her own, the look of happiness and utter contentment that graces his handsome face as he buries his nose in her long locks. "It's just hairspray, Castle."

He shrugs and his hands tighten on her sides. "Don't care what it is. I like it."

"Smells like victory, does it?" she teases, turning her head to let her nose brush his cheek.

He chuckles, the warmth of the sound traveling straight through her ears to the tips of her toes. "Something like that."

She sets down the makeup brush on her table then and turns in his arms, twining her own around his neck. "I like waking up with you."

He lifts an eyebrow. "It's not the first time, you know. Not even the first time it was voluntary."

"I know," she says softly, leaning up to nuzzle him, working her way back to whisper into his ear. "But it's the first time we were naked."

His fingers clench at her lower back as a low sound escapes his lips, his exhale puffing against her ear. She laughs, breathless with the power she has over him, intoxicated by the sway he holds over her.

"Mmm," he hums, the vibrations resonating against her cheek. "You make an excellent point, Detective."

He opens his mouth against her skin, makes her shiver at the heat and the moisture, working his way down from her ear to her neck.

Her fingers grasp at the back of his head, fingers curling into his short hair, nails rasping at his scalp as she lets out a breathy whimper. "Cas-"

He lifts his mouth from the hollow of her throat with one final swipe of his tongue, raising his head to meet her eyes, his own sparkling with mischief. "Yes?"

"We can't," she starts, but there's no strength, no will behind her words. She swallows thickly, clears her throat. "We can't do this now. No time."

His hands press her closer to his body, to every hard line of him that she has so thoroughly explored and enjoyed. "Sure?"

She sighs. "No."

He raises an eyebrow, his lips twitching. "No, you're not sure?"

Kate pulls one hand from the back of his head, skims it across his temple to run her fingers along his hairline. He leans into the touch, eyes closing, contentment written in the thin wrinkles at the edges of his eyes, in the laugh lines that bracket his mouth.

Oh, his mouth. If *that's* not a deadly weapon, then...

Her heart quickens at the thought - her breathing too - and Castle opens his eyes. "Kate?"

She tries to take a step back, but his hands hold her in place, his gaze worried. The detective feels a blush heating her skin, and his expression turns quickly from concern to amusement swirled with no small amount of lust.

He pushes toward her, walks her backward into the vanity, dropping his hands from her back to grip her thighs. Squeaking uncharacteristically, she curls her arms once more around his neck as he lifts her onto the wooden surface.

The writer grins down at her, all smug little boy in a grown up body. A very grown up body, her brain supplies as the warmth blooming in her cheeks becomes more insistent.

"Looking a little flushed there, Beckett," he drawls. "Maybe you're wearing too many clothes."

When his hands leave her thighs to work at the top button of her purple blouse, she bats them away. "I don't need your help."

His eyes widen, pleading blue pools that make her stomach clench in need. "But I don't want you to get overheated."

"Oh, I'm sure that's exactly what you want," she murmurs, sliding her hands down across his shoulders to smooth the fabric of his shirt. His heart thumps rapidly under her palm. At least he's as worked up as she is. Their effect on each other is very mutual.

He apparently takes her wandering hands as a sign that he should resume his previous task, and she catches hold of his hands when he's on the third button. "Castle."

His hands still under hers, the beginnings of a pout curling his lips. She leans forward and presses her mouth to his, quickly and forcefully invading his depths with her tongue before pulling away and refastening her buttons.

He cants toward her, his hips falling into the cradle of her thighs, and it's all she can do to get a hand against his chest, to push him gently away. "Castle, Alexis."

His forehead drops her to her shoulder, and she hears him take a pair of deep breaths before he straightens, lifts his hand to brush his thumb along her cheekbone, strong fingers bracing her jaw.

He presses his lips softly to hers, and she aches with want, a moment away from shirking responsibility and shoving him back to the bed.

"Right," he whispers, pulling back from her. "We promised her we'd be there for breakfast, didn't we? And to relieve her of Minnie duty."

She nods. "We did. And if we don't get going, she'll have to leave for school before we make it home."

His face breaks into a smile, adoration beaming out of him, and it takes her a moment to realize what she said that could have caused such a reaction.

But then she stands, sliding her arms under his, hands drifting up to spread over his shoulder blades as she rests her forehead against his temple. "Yes. I said home."

"Home," he echoes, the single word a soft sigh that ruffles her hair, warms her heart. "Kate, let's go home."


End file.
